Dear Allie,
by Boz1310
Summary: ONESHOT: The letter from Holden to Allie in an attempt to justify his actions. Holden lets out all the pain and confusion he's been hiding away for the past year... T: for language.


**Dear Allie,**

Boz1310

_Words: 1,220_

_Warning: Do not own any of the characters. Catcher in the Rye rightfully belongs to JD Salinger _

_Author's note: This is a letter from Holden to his deceased brother. Hope you enjoy!_

**Hey Allie,**

If somehow you're reading this, you probably know about every goddam thing that's happened to me this past week. I guess you'd know about my expulsion from that phony as hell school and my crazy encounters with old Sally and Sunny. You'd even know about my fistfight with old Stradlater and Maurice, the elevator pimp. Hell, you'd even know about that goddam corny as hell Lunts play and those Salvation Army- Romeo and Juliet- reading nuns. You must have been watching my every screw up and laughing your ass off doing so. And like I said before, I don't believe in the old bearded man in the sky or those damn pearly gates. But if you do…if you did….send a salutation to Him from me. And tell Jesus I love his beard but it _could _use a trimming.

Well I guess I'll start with the whole expulsion thing. It got totally out of hand and all because I wasn't doing so well on a couple of subjects! Okay, not well is probably the understatement of the century- hell, the millennium. Still, they had no right. One minute I was called into the office about my bad marks and the next minute, I was told to pack my bags. And just before the goddam winter break! I still think that was the best thing that's happened to me yet. My teachers are always complaining about how I'm so intellectually undeveloped. I didn't need those phony concepts. Most of all, I didn't need that goddam phony school with those goddam phony teachers. That phony-assed, secret slob Stradlater, that disgusting as hell Ackley. I was outta there faster than the appetites of the boys on steak night and on my way to New York City. I knew our parents would've blown a gasket, but I didn't care. Hell, that night I didn't care about anything. I felt as free as a bird and as high as a kite. I was truly happy for once. I didn't need school to be successful. D.B made it out prostituting himself in Hollywood and I could do that just as well. I had a pocket full of cash and a longing for cheap booze. It seemed right. I don't see why they care. So what if I get expelled? All they really care about is whether or not they get their goddam paycheck! They really need to keep to their own businesses.

Then at New York, I thought I'd do it with someone. You know, do the nasty with some chick. I mean, if most of the boys at Pencey said they've done it, well I guess they probably have. Anyway, I figured-I was trailing the streets of NYC, why shouldn't I get a chance? I was heading up to my hotel room, minding my own beeswax when suddenly this guy comes outta nowhere and asks me if I want a girl. So obviously, I say yes. Minutes later, up comes this super sexy girl, Sunny. And she got this teeny-wheeny voice that make you feel like you're taking advantage of a child. So, I couldn't do it. I chickened out and told her I had a condition with my 'clavichord' and she believed me! Guess she weren't too bright neither. Do you know how much the pimp charged me? Five dollars! Do you know how much she wanted? Ten! Could have figured it was some cheap way for them to scam money off of me. At the end of the day, I ended up with nothing but a black eye, a lighter wallet and my virginity intact. You see, Allie, you were quite young when you died so unless you can age in Heaven, you probably don't give a damn to what I'm trying to say right now. You don't understand how important this is for me- losing my virginity... becoming a man…being wanted by another human being! I swear to God that night, my hormones were scattered all over the place. To be honest I don't know about anything! I'm just really confused.

And just when things couldn't get any worse, I showed up at our flat drunk as hell only to be yelled at by our own baby sister. Honestly, I showed up with a record and everything for her and she just kept on saying "Daddy's gonna kill you." She just kept repeating that over and over again. I'm not even kidding. It was crazy. So I tried to comfort her, you know, be the big brother and everything. And you know what she did? She claimed that I didn't like anything. She wanted me to name one thing- one thing that I liked a lot. I felt really annoyed at her. I wracked my brains and everything. I tried imagining myself being happy with old Stradlater or old Ackley or old Sally or even old Jane Gallagher. But I didn't like them. Not really. Man, am I an asocial prick. And then man, I could read it in her eyes. "Holden, you really are fucked aren't you?" they said, taunting me. Phoebe was right though. They weren't actually my friends. None of them were. I could only think of you and Phoebe. And you know what? I felt kind of ashamed in myself.

As Phoebe rode on that carousel again and again in the pouring rain, looking mighty pretty in her little blue coat, I had an epiphany. That's right, I know what an epiphany is and I had one that day. (Bet my teachers would be real proud of me and everything) Can you believe it? Little Phoebe actually shook some sense into me. I was mighty afraid- afraid of everything. I was afraid of love, afraid of people who were smarter than me, afraid of their phony thoughts and their opinions towards me. I was afraid of everyone and yet I missed everyone at the same time. Most of all, I was afraid of growing up. Real stupid right? After all, growing up was a natural thing that no one could stop. But you could sure as hell lengthen the time- and that was what I was doing. In order to succeed in school and love and friendship and money and everything, I needed to move on. And move on from what you ask? From you Allie.

So why in the goddam hell am I writing to you? I guess it's because I'm _ready_ to move on. I'm _ready_ to grow up. Hell, I never thought I would ever think those goddam words, let alone write them down for you. I have written down exactly what happened this past week. Now, I am going to start a fire-get it nice and ablazing and I am going to burn this- along with that goddam hunting hat. Think of it as a confession from me to you. Think of it as the last phony confession. I'm not even kidding.

No longer yours,

**Holden**

_AN: As per usual, review and comment lest you want Holden on your tail! _

_Cheers,_

_BOZ1310-May 4__th__ 2013 (Happy Star Wars day!)_


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